Countdown
by chocolatebearturk
Summary: They’re standing next to each other when the countdown starts. It’s Times Square and they’re cold and it’s a miracle that they aren’t getting mobbed, because she’s somehow convinced him to take off the mirrored glasses. JONAS, PHM Challenge 5 Response.


**c o u n t d o w n**

a/n: I've always wanted to write a story using the present-tense. I admire authors like _secretfunnelcake._ who can pull it off, and so this style emulates her stuff in a major way. If you like this even a little bit, look up the buddy named above and you'll be blown away.

Happy New Year, FF! :) Here's to hoping that the next will be even better.

* * *

_10…_

They're standing next to each other when the countdown starts. It's Times Square and they're cold and it's a miracle that they aren't getting mobbed, because she's somehow convinced him to take off the mirrored glasses. She's staring shamelessly at his face, drinking in the sight while he watches the ball slowly descend behind the _2010_ sign. It's New Years, he's getting into the spirit for once, and she's there, right next to him, huddling close for warmth. It's the same as last year, except, well, then she was fangirl-freaking-out about standing next to NICK_FREAKING_LUCAS and he was slightly annoyed at being stuck, _alone_, in the crowd with her.

The sad thing is, this is probably as close as they're going to come to having a bonding moment or actually becoming friends. The past year's seen her mellowing out, but he still seems to avoid her gaze and always, always, _always_, goes quiet whenever she joins the conversation. And while that may be enough to upset her on New Year's Eve while she's standing next to Nick Lucas in Times Square, she's sure as hell not going to let him know it.

_9…_

And so they both call out the numbers, her quite loudly, as is her fashion, and him softly, almost as though he doesn't want anyone but her and him to hear. She's wondering what it would be like if this trip were different from all the others, if her company on the summer tour had changed the way he saw her, if defeating that royal pain Fiona Sky had made him see her in a new light, if seeing her wearing that dress on Stella's forgotten birthday had opened his eyes to what he was missing out.

But she knows that can't happen and so she blinks the fantasy away.

And maybe it's the cold air and maybe it's the close quarters and maybe it's something much different and much more upsetting, but she feels her eyes prick with what may well be tears.

_8…_

She realizes as he begins to turn her way that she's still staring, so she hastily turns her eyes on the ball as it drops, slowly and in perfect time. With all the lights flashing and all the people chanting with them, for a bare second she is distracted from the fact that they're standing so close that she can feel his body heat, his mere presence, next to her.

For a moment, she's smiling at the wonder around her and it feels so _good_ to let go. Because during that time, she's not thinking about why this little crush hasn't gone away and why she feels sick inside whenever she sees him flirting with another girl and how on earth could these feelings develop anyway? Because isn't there some saying about love needing fuel to burn? Because if he's doing something to feed this raging fire, she needs to figure out what it is and avoid him when he's doing it, but she's got this sick feeling inside that him just being there is what's causing it.

But right now, eight seconds from midnight, she's not thinking about that. She's watching the ball drop and enjoying it for a single second.

_7…_

She doesn't notice that his eyes are on her, but she does feel him shift slightly next to her. She turns and—_BAM!_—just like that, her happy moment is gone and she's straight back into the middle of hell. His eyes are boring into hers and for a fraction of a second, she wonders if he knows, if he sees, if he suddenly understands and maybe, possibly, might kind-of-sort-of—but then it's gone, because that's a silly and unrealistic thing to think anyways.

But that doesn't change the fact that she's standing there, staring into his eyes and he's standing there, staring into hers and it's such a strange feeling and all she wants to do is turn away, but at the same time she can't, because this is something that she can't give up for the world. Because this, whatever this is, feels like a connection and that's something that is going to have to be pried from cold, lifeless fingers. Or eyes. Or whatever this kind-of-a-connection-thing can be pried from.

_6…_

Then the unbelievable happens. His mouth stretches into a wide smile and she actually thinks about pinching herself to make sure this is really happening. He's looking at her and _smiling_, a broad smile that she hasn't seen on his face since the last time she went to a concert. Granted, that was only a few days ago, but she likes to think it's been longer because, in this moment, it feels like years have passed.

Maybe they have and she doesn't know it or maybe things have just changed so much in this short space of time. Either way, she finds herself smiling back, some childish part of her mind pretending that the smile is for her and only her and not excitement for the celebration.

_5…_

And so here's how it is: he's smiling at her and she's smiling at him and they've both forgotten entirely about the countdown until they hear the people around them chanting the next second in the sequence. And still it doesn't seem to matter, because he's _smiling_ and it's such a beautiful thing that she doesn't even notice the way his face is getting closer.

But then when his smile falters, a look of nervousness cutting a path across his normally calm and collected face, it strikes her what is happening. Time seems to slow down just for them and she can barely comprehend this sequence of events. There is just _no way._

_4…_

Funnily enough, there really is no way, because he's jostled as some eager dad tries to get closer to the action, his sleepy son slumped over and drooling slightly into his hair. Nick is pushed into her and it's a wonder they don't topple to the frozen ground. But he manages to keep them upright and she breathes a sigh of relief.

That is, until she notices the way his arms are wrapped possessively around her waist, as though he was much more than her kind-of-sort-of friend and she were much more than his band's biggest fan. Her breath catches in her throat and she can hardly dare to believe it when he doesn't pull away.

_3…_

He begins to laugh and it's an amazing sound, one that she's only heard a few times before. Soon, her own laughter joins his and in the air, their combined voices almost sound like music.

He still hasn't let go of her, but that doesn't seem to matter. Right now, there's a connection, one that she's been dying for since Day One, and there's no way she's going to let that go, not in a million years. Because as they're laughing together, they're more than just fan and celebrity. They're more than just acquaintances. They're friends. Honest-to-goodness friends, and even though that burning feeling in her stomach means that she wants so much more, this is what she'll settle for. (She tells herself, _For now_, but she doesn't really mean it.)

_2…_

And then he stops laughing almost as suddenly as he began and there's this serious look on his face. It's almost _deathly_ serious and for a moment she's wondering if she should be afraid, but then she dismisses that, because it's almost as silly as the thought that… he would…

His hand reaches out and brushes hair out of her face and all. Thought. Stops.

_1…_

His face is coming closer and she knows what's happening but at the same time she can't comprehend it. He's right there and she's right there, but it all feels so surreal. He's almost there and she can feel his breath on her face and there's no way this is happening because if it is then that means that this is _real_ and her feelings are _real_ and he just might return those feelings and that's what she's been hoping for since they first locked eyes, but there's just no possible way that this is happening.

A million reasons run through her head; _it's just because they're standing next to each other. He wants to participate in the New Year's kiss, but he doesn't want to share it with some stranger. It doesn't mean anything._

But his eyes tell a different story and he's smiling faintly again and, wow, this is just too amazing to be real. And then his lips are pressed against hers and she's inhaling sharply through her nose because even though she saw it happening, she just didn't believe it. But this feels too real to be a dream or another fantasy and so she just closes her eyes and lets herself go, leaning into him and into this kiss that she would have never seen coming in a million years.

And when they pull away, he's definitely a few minutes late with his proclamation, but she doesn't mind at all.

"_Happy New Year, Macy."_

.

This is the end. There is no more story to tell, so if I see anyone put it on alert, I will be sending out PMs. Okay?

Much love!  
Babs


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